The Darkness of Being
by SimmyRoberts1901
Summary: Bonnie moves to Fells Church after their wealthy parents die in a plane crash. There, Bonnie meets Damon Salvatore, an isolated man with a dark spirit. Soon she discovers there could be much more insidious creatures in the small town of Fells Church, and that her parents might have harbored dark secrets, too. *Read inside for Preface* *Lemons*
1. Preface

**Preface  
**

* * *

Before she moved to Fells Church, nobody ever captured my attention, nobody except her. Whose dark eyes sparkle like night, whose blood red hair glistens even without sun? Her gentle voice draws the truth from me, coaxes me to open up. Her beautiful pink, heart-shaped lips curve around the comforting words, '_It's okay, I'm here', _ridding me of darkness. I never thought I would want to leave the darkness, for it had once been my only solace. Now she's all that brings the light. But it isn't blinding. It's warmth. It's beauty. It's life. It's everything that I'm not.

Isn't that the thing everyone wants? How blasphemous, how confounding, how _silly _that this should be the reason I stay away from her! My black eyes stare into hers, and I can see her tremble. Good. She _should_ be afraid of me. I'm the most dangerous creature she'll ever meet. '_You should stay away from me, Bonnie.'_

But, wait! Why do I stiffen with ice when she draws her warm hand away? Why do I feel a pang in my dead heart when her eyes brim with tears? Why do I feel desire, hot and fierce, course through me when she bites her full, bottom lip?

"I don't know if I can, Damon," The beautiful girl whispers as she leaves me.

.

**_Lemons!_**

**_Tell me in a review or PM if you're interested _**

**_in seeing more of this fanfic.  
_**

**_Thanks for reading!  
_**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N Here's the first chapter, per request. If you have any tips, question, or opinions don't hesitate to drop me a line in a PM or Review. Thanks for reading and please review!**

**Chapter 1**

* * *

Clutching the steering wheel, I stared at the small apartment building in front of me. Located just on the outskirts of the town of Fells Church, it was just within walking distance of the High School, where I would be attending until my Senior year was up, and the elementary school where I would be sending my little brother, Henry. I took a deep breath into my lungs, fighting to stop the tears from coming. _It's only temporary, Bonnie, _I told myself. _It's only until Aunt Jules is out of the hospital in a couple months. Then she'll be able to help._

These words were my only comfort, at least for now. Taking the keys out of the ignition, I leaned over to rouse ten year old Henry. "Hey, wake up, little guy. We're here."

Henry stirs, groaning slightly, then snuggles back into the seat. I sigh. Guess I'm going to have to resort to the unpleasant. "Henry, if you don't wake up, I'm not buying you Lucky Charms tomorrow."

Finally, he rouses, grumbling as he does so. "We're _finally_ here?"

"Yes. Now get your things or you're sleeping in the car tonight," I glance at Henry just in time to see his expression as he takes in our new home. His brown eyes, so much like mine, widen in disbelief, and for the tiniest second his lips pucker like he's about to cry.

"Hey," I say, more gently this time, and rub his arm. "C'mon, sleepyhead, let's go inside."

"Okay," he sighs, then shrugs his backpack onto his small shoulders and opens the door. I take our suitcases from the backseat, deciding to bring the rest of our stuff inside when Henry's sleeping.

.

It's cold. Colder than usual. I wake with a start, throwing my bedspread back and sticking my feet in the soft luxury of my slippers. Looking around my room, I notice nothing out of place, but a horrible feeling deep inside tell me that something's wrong.

My thoughts immediately flash to my parents. They were flying home from Bermuda tonight on the red eye. What if something happened to them?

I throw on my robe, opting for the plush one rather than the silk- it's much warmer. As I step into the hall, the eerie quiet of the night welcomes me. I slip past the maids' quarters, not wanting to wake Josephine or Helga. When I reach the grand stairs I breathe a sigh of relief; I made it. But when I step into the great hall, hushed voice stop me.

Tilting my head to the side, I listen more intently. The voices are coming from the dining room. It sounds like Alaric Saltzman, my father's associate, and Hugh Parks, my uncle who lives in Europe. What was _he_ doing here? What was Alaric doing here, so late at night? It was highly inappropriate. For one disturbed moment, I wonder if they're having a secret gay love affair.

Their voices are so muted by the double doors, I can hardly hear anything. Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me. Thinking lightening fast, I duck into the closet under the stairs. The shoes click-clack against the floor, it sounds like a woman in heels.

The double doors open audibly and the woman enters the great room, not bothering to close the doors behind her.

"Gentlemen," I'm surprised to hear my aunt Jules' rich, high-handed voice. "Thank you for honoring me with your presence on such a fine evening. Shall we move to William's study?"

Three sets of feet exit the dining room and carrying on down the hall. They are all silent as they enter my father's study, closing the door tightly behind them. I slip out from the closet silently and scurry towards the study. Something, my unstoppable curiosity probably, carries me forward and urges me to press my ear against the door.

I hear a telltale sound of shuffling, then complete silence. I imagine my aunt regarding her visitors intently, with that black ice look she sometimes gets in her hazel eyes. I imagine my portly uncle dabbing his red face with a handkerchief, looking uncomfortable and weary. I didn't know what Alaric Saltzman would be doing as my aunt looked upon him; I had only met Mr. Saltzman a couple times, but those were so few I could hardly remember. I imagined the handsome young man would be looking my aunt straight in the eye, not giving into her withering stare.

"Gentlemen, I'm afraid I have some terrible news." My aunt finally spoke. "There's been an accident."

Her words send shivers down my spine, and I clamp my hand over my mouth to quiet my gasp. _Oh no. _This is what I had feared. This is what woke me in the middle of the night. I knew something horrible had happened I just knew it!

"The McCullough's plane went down just as they were nearing New York City. The aircraft was plunged deep into the sea. We've heard nothing since. The coastguard is searching the waters, but they've found no survivors." Her voice falters and she takes a deep breath before whispering, "It's safe to say that William and Margaret McCullough are dead."

I listen to all this in complete silence, ignoring the hot tears that pool in my eyes. Dead? They can't be dead! They just can't be. Not my parents. They wouldn't leave us. Not like this.

Uncle Hugh lets out a loud moan, "Oh, Lord. What are we to tell the children?"

I knew he was talking about Henry and me, even though I was 16- hardly a child. Clutching my mouth tighter, broken sobs fight their way up my throat. _I must not cry. I must not cry. _I repeat over, and over in my head, like a silent prayer.

"Let's not worry about such things now," Alaric Saltzman mutters. "William would have wanted us to continue in the research. This is clearly what we should be focusing on."

"Absolutely not," Aunt Jules' voice whispers cuttingly. "I will not stand for this talk after such a tragedy has occurred."

"Surely you must know that Margaret would have wanted this also, Jules. They dedicated their lives to researching our cause, we mustn't let them down. It would be wasteful."

"I've said no, Mr. Saltzman! This would only endanger us further."

"From what, exactly? From finding the truth? We can't give up!" His voice rings loudly, I can almost hear his teeth clenching around the words.

"You've gone mad!" Aunt Jules shrieks.

Uncle Hugh sobs. "Would you listen to yourselves? Our dear friends have died and we're discussing business. Absurd, how absurd."

For one second, Aunt Jules and Alaric are silent. Other than Uncle Hugh's sobs and Alaric's hard breathing, all is quiet in the McCullough Manor. Then Alaric speaks in a slightly more contained voice, although the calm can't mask his rage underneath. "We can't give up," he repeats. "Say William and Margaret hadn't just died; say it wasn't a plane malfunction. What if they were _murdered?_"

I count four quickened heartbeats before Aunt Jules replies to Alaric's accusation.

"I wouldn't hear of it."

"But Jules-"

"I need a minute!" She snaps. Listening intently, I hear the sounds of high-heels pacing about the study. Then Aunt Jules let out a long breath. "Let's pick this up tomorrow, shall we? It's late, none of us are thinking clearly and I'm sure we all need a breather to assess our feelings towards this … mishap. Thank you for coming, gentlemen. I'll see you out."

I quickly stumble backwards, hiding around the corner into the kitchen. I'm numb. The whisper of fabric being pulled over arms and heels stomping down the hall fade as I'm pulled into oblivion.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

The alarm clock next to the bed reminds me that it's 6am, as I wake from the rather disturbing memory. I had nearly blocked it out; it was too painful to remember. I lay in bed for a few minutes, trying to shake the dream off, when I remember that I left our luggage sitting in the van all night. I hastily pull on my old jeans and a jacket, not bothering to wake Henry yet.

I make sure to lock the door to the apartment before stomping down the metal stairs and unlocking the van doors. Thankfully, our stuff is still there. In New York City, our old home, these boxes would have never lived to see today. But this is Fells Church, Virginia, and people don't just break into minivans here. These are the kinds of adults that stop on the side of the road to make sure your car didn't break down. These are the kinds of teens that volunteer at soup kitchens and run track like it's an actual sport. These are the kinds of children that make lemonade stands.

This is not my typical snobby, New York social scene crowd.

Pulling the biggest box, I make my way back our apartment room. After a couple more boxes, my arms are starting to get wobbly. Just when I think I can make it back to our room, it almost tumbles from my arms before landing into somebody else's'.

I look up into gentle, bright blue eyes. "Watch it," the boy says with an all-American smile. "I wouldn't want you breaking anything, now. Would you like some help?"

"Uh, no, thanks. I think I've got it." I mumble, embarrassed, taking the box from him. I carry on up the stairs, aware that his eyes are following me. I'm even more chagrined when I teeter slightly on the way.

"I got it," the boy says, suddenly appearing beside me and swiftly taking the heavy box from my arms. He regards me fixedly. "You're a do-it-yourself girl, huh?"

"Maybe a little," I smirk and climb the stairs towards our apartment. Unlocking the door, I wonder vaguely what time it is, and whether I should wake Henry up for school yet. "Just set it down there," I tell the boy, pointing towards the rest of the boxes, settled near the worn couch.

When I turn back to the boy, his bright blue eyes are surveying our apartment. For the first time since arriving last night, I begin to feel self-conscious. This drab apartment could never match our esteemed manor back in New York City, or our Penthouse in Toronto, or our summer house in St. Bart's. Why couldn't Henry and I have stayed in one of those?

But deep down I know it's because the FBI has quarantined those properties until they have more answers. My parents have become quite the case in their department. What kind of couple lends out large sums of money to people they hardly know? What kind of couple leaves their children for months at a time to go researching Bermuda, Rio de Janeiro, Spain and Thailand? What were they looking for?

For a short time, the detectives thought Henry and I might have known something. They soon found that we were both oblivious, kept in the dark, about our parents' secret life. Truth was I had been asking myself the same questions ever since the night they died. What had my parents been researching? Why couldn't the FBI find anything? Did I ever have a chance of finding these answers?

The boy looks me over once. "Do you live here alone?"

I shake my head. "My brother's here, too. We're kind of living on our own for now."

His eyes widen and an awe-struck smile sweeps across his face. "Cool!"

_Boys, _I think and roll my eyes internally. I put my hands in my back pockets. "My name's Bonnie, by the way. Do you go to Robert E. Lee High School?"

"I'm Matt Honeycutt. Yeah, I do. It's my Senior year," he gloats good-naturally.

I giggle. "Maybe I'll see you there today. Do you live in the building?"

Matt shakes his head, somewhat ruefully. "No, I was visiting a friend. I should probably get going."

"It was nice talking to you, Matt." I wait for him to leave, and then hold up a hand and wave goodbye.

He gives me a wistful look, then steps outside, closing the door. But not before saying, "See you at school, Bonnie!"

With a sigh, I regard the small mountain of boxes. This was all Henry and I could take from our home. The rest was seized. I couldn't come into my trust until I was 18, which isn't for another 7 months. So, for now, Henry and I are stuck here with only 600$ to our name.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Waking Henry is always the same story; he won't wake until I threaten him with something. Usually food works. _If you don't wake up, I won't buy you Twinkies. If you don't wake up, you won't get money for candy. If you don't wake up, you'll get twice as many vegetables tonight. _I'm probably giving him an unhealthy complex, but it beats dumping cold water on his face.

Since I'm already dressed, I don't bother with a shower, although I force Henry to brush his teeth and to at least wash behind his ears.

The only thing I do with myself is brush my teeth and wash my face. I run my hands a few times through my wild red hair, unknotting some of the curls and pinch some color to my cheeks. Then I decide to change my t-shirt, to a more suitable blouse for school, since it's what my mom would have suggested. I busy myself with fixing Henry's breakfast before I can go any further with that thought.

By seven forty-eight, we're clothed, fed and all-around prepared to face a new school. I hurry us out the door, remembering to lock it thoroughly, then usher us both into the mini-van.

With a satisfied smile, I mentally give myself a pat on the back. "Well, Henry, I'd say it's been a very successful morning, wouldn't you?"

"Sure, whatever," he says, slumping against the door and tucking his hands under his arms.

I glance at him as I speed down the main road, instantly concerned. "What's wrong?"

Henry lets out a defiant sigh. "I don't want to go to a new school, Bonnie! It's bad enough that we had to leave home, now we're staying in an ugly apartment and-and I miss mom and dad." A tear rolls down his cheek.

Biting my cheek to keep from crying, too, I pull over. I turn towards my little brother and grab his hand. "Hey, look at me." He rests his sad eyes on me. "We're going to get through this, Henry. I know it sucks, okay? I know. But mom and dad would have wanted us to be strong." He lets out a little sob, his chest heaving. I run a hand down his cheek, wiping away the tears.

"It's only for a couple months," I whisper. "Then Aunt Jules will come for us and take us back to New York City, or wherever you want to go. We could live in Disney World, for all I care. Just be happy or at least try, for now. It'll be okay, Henry." Then I pull him into my arms, because I believe my words and I want him to know it.

He sniffs, wiping his eyes adorably. "Okay, Bonnie. I'll try for mom and dad… and for you. Aren't we going to be late for school?"

I glance at the analog clock on the dashboard. "Shit!" I breathe, and then pull away from the curb and race towards the elementary school. As Henry jumps out, I call. "Be good! Stay out of trouble!"

He throws me a look that says '_Yeah, yeah, I got it, big sis.'_

With a small smile, I drive away and go about finding Robert E. Lee High School.

It's not hard. The school is situated just down the street from the elementary, as if placed there just for my discomfort. I was hoping I could procrastinate a little before actually finding it, but now I have no time to prep. All my big talk with Henry is wearing off; I have no one to be strong for, except myself. And, truth is, I'm quivering in my booties.

With a deep breath, I pull my bag over my shoulder and step out of the mini-van, ignoring the harsh, judging looks from my new peers. I manage to keep my chin up and avoid meeting any cruel gazes. My mother would have been proud.

I walk into the main office, finding it quickly, tell them my name and am immediately presented with my class schedule. My smile falls; the FBI does good work. I can't explain my hatred for these detectives, who only want to solve my family's case. Is it the fact that they stole everything from us? Is it the fact that they still don't have answers? I don't know. Maybe it's everything that's happened up until now, and I blame them. For whatever reason, I can't tolerate being in the detective's presence ever again. I can't even bring myself to remember their names.

I find my locker quickly, too. Boy, Robert E. Lee is a small school. I recall my private school in New York; the great dining hall, three separate buildings, a chapel, plaid uniforms … I breathe a sigh of remorse; I can never go back there again.

"Hey, you're the new girl!" A sing-song voice calls.

Turning, I find myself staring into the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen.

Plain is the last word I'd use to describe this girl. She stands under a halo of soft golden hair; it makes her violet-blue eyes striking and her red bow-shaped lips pop. She arches a perfectly scalped eyebrow, and I can't help thinking of the models I encountered on my trip to France last fall.

I realized I'm gaping at her and close my mouth. "Hi," I squeak, and then find my bearings. "I'm Bonnie McCullough."

"We know," she says, smiling softly. "I'm Elena Gilbert."

For the first time, I realize she's not alone. There are two girls standing with her, although neither of them matches her beauty. The one on the right, who introduces herself as Caroline, has shiny auburn hair and lazy green eyes—something about her posture reminds me of a feline. The other one, named Meredith, stands tall. Although her beauty is rather muted, as I take a second look at her, her features turn strikingly exotic.

"Pleased to meet you," I murmur. Suddenly, I'm distracted by a movement in my peripherals. I turn to see Matt waving at me. I smile back and hold up a finger, telling him to wait. "If you'll excuse me for a minute, ladies …"

"We were going to ask if you had any lunch plans," The golden girl asks quickly, before I can make off.

"No, I don't."

"Perfect. Then you'll join us."

"We meet by the bench in front of the office," Caroline purrs.

I nod, "Of course." Then I turn away and rush to meet Matt. "A familiar face!" I say with relief, accepting Matt's generous hug.

"You're happy to see me! I'm glad. I was going to introduce you to my friends, but I can see you're already met them."

"They're your friends?" I blink; they didn't seem like Matt's crowd. I expected his friends to be cheery and wholesome; those girls seemed like they were competing for something I didn't know.

"Yeah, they're great, aren't they? Are you joining us for lunch?"

"I suppose I am."

"Great. See you then!"

The rest of the day passes in a blur. A very surreal blur, where everybody plays a part and I suddenly fit in. Of course, I never fit into my private school's usual crowd. I usually hung back with the artsy types, even though I had no talent. The prep-school girls didn't understand me, and I wasn't all about the Brother school, where all the "hot guys" went. I was a misfit. I wasn't completely sure I fit in here, either, with these seemingly nice beautiful girls and All-American, football playing boys.

Apparently Henry had joined the soccer team, and his practice didn't end until 6pm. One of the coaches offered to drive Henry home, so I was stuck with nothing to do.

Dumbfounded, I realized that I left the apartment key with Henry; I had no way of getting in. Finally, I decided to take a walk. The town of Fells Church was rather pretty at Twilight; just before the world went dark, and there was still a splash of sun left.

I parked the van back at the apartment and started off towards the Town Square. When I got there, I turned left and kept walking until I was pretty sure there was nothing but forest and highway. Before I turned back I noticed a sign saying "15 Minutes to Wickery Bridge".

Deciding to take a chance on a weather-beaten sign, I kept walking. I was beginning to regret not bringing the mini-van. I was starting to give up when I seen an opening up ahead in the woods. I picked up the pace, turning left, to find myself in a cemetery. It was dark, now, and even though it was cold I carried on through the gravestones. Most of these seemed newer. I skimmed past them, touching a few here and there, until I came to an uphill path.

Curiosity took over, and I ambled up the hill, resting on a tomb when I got to the top. The sight was breathtaking. The moon was bloated and bright, somehow so low in the sky, shining over the gravestones. This part of the cemetery seemed older than the rest, although I couldn't read the etchings in the rough surfaces. It went on for miles.

How many dead people were buried beneath the surface? How did they all die?

Suddenly, I heard a flurry of motion behind me. But when I turned, there was nothing but a tombstone of the grim reaper. Staring into his emotionless, blank eyes, I laid my hand on his skeletal one. The cold of the statue unnerved me.

That's when I heard a twig breaking beside me. My head snapped towards the sound, but again, there was nothing. _It's just your mind playing tricks on you, Bonnie. _I said to myself. Of course, of course, what else could it be?

Then I heard another twig break, right in front of me. My breathing accelerated and I stumbled back—right into the waiting arms of my follower.

I shrieked and jumped away from him, flashing around to meet his overwhelming black eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Have I frightened you?" His gaze told me he wasn't at all sorry.

Still unable to speak, I pressed a hand against my chest and held up a finger. I took three deep breaths, calming myself. It was only a man, nothing to be scared of. But as I thought this, I wondered if it was true. With the way he was regarding me, I felt almost certain I was wrong. There _is _something to be scared of.

But, no, he's not scary. He's just a man. A very attractive man, but I can't think about that now.

"Were you following me?"

He snorts, "Of course not, don't be absurd."

I nodded, agreeing. Of course he wouldn't be following me; he's probably visiting family. It's not so strange, is it? Visiting dead family members in the nighttime—it's something I would do.

"Who are you?" I asked, gazing at him intently.

Suddenly the world shifts around us, and it's only him. His midnight black eyes stare into mine, swallowing me up. I'm distinctly aware that he's very close; I can smell the supple, musky scent of his leather jacket. His eyes are framed with thick lashes; they're the most beautiful things I've ever seen. Vaguely, I think, _he's putting me under his spell… He's magic._

"I'm whoever you want me to be, Miss McCullough."

I freeze, breaking from his trance. "H-how do you know my name?"

His eyes widen fractionally. "Why, you told me. You don't remember?"

My eyebrows crease; no, I _don't_ remember. I replay the last few seconds in my mind, but, honestly, it's all sort of a blur, up until now. Perhaps I did tell him my name. "Did you tell me yours?"

"Of course I did. It would have been rather rude not too, Miss McCullough."

My lips twitch, unable to hide my smirk. "Please, call me Bonnie. You sound so formal, like you're from a classic British novel... like a white night." I'm vaguely aware that all of my thoughts are pouring out of my mouth, but I can't stop it. Word vomit, that's what it is.

His eyes chill unexpectedly and he gives me a tight smile, "I'm more of a dark night, but I shall do as you please, Bonnie."

I'm surprisedby the way his mouth curves around my name, caressing it. Some part of me swoons, another part of me speculates. Do I know him from somewhere? Maybe he's a colleague of my fathers, or the husband of my mother's friend. No, I certainly would have remembered his face… and his eyes.

"Have you been exploring alone?" He asks, his voice hardening.

I nod slowly, wary of his reaction. Who _is_ this man? Where did he come from?

"That's very dangerous, Miss McCullough," his voice is very serious. He looks towards the trees, his dark eyes skimming the treetops. "You have no idea what could be … lurking in the shadows." His eyes drop back to mine, one eyebrow raised, and a small smile plays on his lips.

My heart skips a beat. _Oh my … that look_. It awakens something inside me that I didn't even know existed. I want him—this man who I hardly know.

His eyes abruptly darken and he steps towards me. He reaches one hand up and cups my face, leaning down and tracing his nose along my throat. I give in to his sudden attack, surrendering to his gentle touch. His lips press against my throat, and despite the coldness of his lips, it sends a spark of heat to my heart … and another place. Tentatively, his tongue touches against my throat and I sigh.

Unthinkingly, I reach one hand up bury it in his dark hair. It's so soft under my fingertips. I curl my fingers in his hair, tugging his head back and pressing my lips against his. I have no idea what I'm doing. Suddenly this feeling overcomes me, astonishing me with its force. My lips meet his with such an intense passion that a moan escapes my lips.

A low growl leaves his throat, and he's pushing me away. His black eyes meet mine. He's panting slightly, much like I am, and it only makes me want him more. I try to bring his face back to mine, but he holds me arms-length away.

"No."

The word hangs cold and angry in the air between us. His jaw strains, and then suddenly he's gone. I gasp, unable to make sense of what just happened. My lips burn, aching for his touch, I tentatively reach one hand up and brush my bottom lip. I don't even remember his name!

I close my eyes, seeing his sparkly, dark black eyes behind them. He's dark, very dark indeed. Yet I long to be in his arms again. Such a sweet, gentle moment shared with a man I hardly know.

Who _was _that?

.

**A/N Please review! :)**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N Hey guys! I know it's been a while since I updated, hopefully this makes up for it! This chapter's short, more of a transitional chap, but there should be more to come soon! Unfortunately there's only a little bit of Bamon in this one :(**

**Chapter 3  
**

* * *

My English teacher once told me to write about what you know. His name was Benji Hayes, and he was the best teacher I ever had. When my parents died, he helped me cope. Although, why anyone would care about my issues, I don't know. I hadn't thought about Mr. Hayes since we moved, but then I got the phone call.

"Aunt Jules? Wow, it's great to hear from you." I pause for a moment, listening to her voice. "Henry's fine. School's going good. I'm keeping him well fed."

There wasn't a single thing off about her blithe, distant voice. Then she dropped the bomb. "Oh, have I mentioned Benjimin Hayes died last week?"

He had been leaving the school, fresh off a satisfying work day when he had been attacked in the school parking lot. He had only been a few feet away from his car, from safety. I can imagine those wise all-knowing eyes going bright with fear then fade with death. Did he know his time was going to come? No, he couldn't have.

It had been more than a couple weeks since we moved to Fells Church. Henry and I were still adjusting but it was getting easier. We stopped taking the van to school to catch a ride with Matt. Matt was sweet, foxy, and he was good with Henry. He was good to have around.

Matt would be taking me to New York City this week to attend Benji's funeral.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay, Henry?" I asked him, reaching out and brushing his arm. "I can stay."

Little Henry shook his head, "No, I'll be fine, Bonnie." He chewed on his lip for a minute, and I could tell he had more to say. "I was gonna ask if you were doing okay, actually."

"Me?" I asked, shocked.

"Yeah… I know you were close with Mr. Hayes." His eyes narrowed as he looked out the window.

I gripped my fork tighter, hovering over my Kraft Dinner. Images flash through my mind, the feel of cold skin against my bare thigh. So close, so close and frightened. He was sick. His dark black eyes burned with indecision and fear and lust. He was in pain. I drop my fork and rub my eyes. "Let's talk about something else."

Henry gets impatient, begins dropping his pale fingers onto the table, one by one. _Tap, tap, tap. _The sound of Mr. Hayes walking away from me.

"How's school going?" I ask.

His face sours and he shrugs, not giving much away.

"Have you made any friends?"

He shrugs again. "Not really … The kids here are weird."

"Weird as in..?" I ask, trying to sound diplomatic.

Henry sighs and pushes away from the table. "Just drop it, Bonnie."

Then he leaves the dining room, effectively ending our conversation. In the morning I attempt to wake Henry up, but he suddenly has a fever of 101. After much begging from his part, I let him stay in the room today. When I get outside, Matt is already waiting.

He gives me a kind smile when I slide in. "No Henry today?"

I shake my head. "He's got the flu."

Home by Phillip Phillips comes on the radio and I turn it up. I close my eyes and let the music take me away. For some reason, Matt hasn't started driving yet.

"Are you sure about taking me to New York City tomorr-?"

My eyes fly open in surprise as Matt's lips press against mine. The only emotion I can register is shock, although his lips feel strange and alien against mine. They're too cold, too forced. I can't help but wonder why I'm not enjoying this more. His lips open and close, moving mine with them, as his tongue pokes around my lips.

"Um, Matt?" I ask, my voice muffled and breathy.

"Mmm?"

I press my hand against his solid chest. "We should get to school."

He seems pleased as he pulls away from me and shifts the gear into drive. "Whatever you say," he says with a wink.

.

"Recent polls say you're a shoe-in for Homecoming Queen," Caroline says as she leans against the locker, placing one hand on her narrow hip. "Not that I'm surprised. You're practically dating Matt Honeybutt."

"We're not dating."

"Call it whatever you want, but that sexy piece of ass is making you one hot commodity, Bonbon."

"Besides, I'm not the least bit interested in being Homecoming Queen. That seems more like Elena's bit."

"Oh totes, but you never know. People tend to root for the underdog." Caroline gives me a little wink before turning away. "See you later!"

I didn't know what it was about Caroline but she reminded me of the girls at my old school. Ambitious and beautiful, but also insecure and manipulative.

I turned around and started walking down the hall, until I seen a man. The same man from the cemetery that night, and he's looking even more gorgeous and dangerous than I remembered. I hadn't seen him since then, and I had begun to convince myself it had never even happened. But here, those mere seconds when he was right in front of me and nothing else in the world mattered, it seemed as if the world shifted. It changed. Life was more hopeful, the leaves lighter, the sun brighter. Everything made sense and I saw life in his eyes.

And then he vanished into thin air.

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**A/N Any thoughts? I'll touch more on the Benji thing in the next chapter when Bonnie goes to New York!**

**Should she go with Matt or Damon?... Hmmm ... ;) Please review!**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N Okay so I know I said Bonnie was going to NYC in this chapter but I decided this needed to happen first! Yay for transitional chaps? :P NYC will come in a couple chaps, where a lot of shit is gonna go down! Also, this chap. touches more on the Benji-thing annnd has plenty of Damon ;D**

**PS. Please listen to the suggested song in the chap. to get the full effect! :)**

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Walking home from school the same day, made me realize how truly beautiful Fells Church is. Sure, the people may be miserable and hiding behind masks, but the scenery was really exquisite.

Somehow, I had taken a wrong turn at the Town Square. Jeez, I really should pay more attention. I was now walking down a highway. Something about it seemed vaguely familiar. I had almost put my finger on it when the "15 Minutes to Wickery Bridge" sign came into view. I looked over my shoulder, back towards town. Well, Henry wouldn't miss me. And I wouldn't be gone long.

So I decidedly marched towards the graveyard I had come to on my second day in Fells Church. I still had yet to find this legendary church, so I made that my mission. It would be best to take my mind off everything, anyway. The morning kiss I received from Matt was still bouncing around in my head, unsure of where to land. Yes, the kiss was more odd than pleasant, but Matt was nice and he was good for us right now.

Of course, I knew if I was being fair, I should set Matt straight. It's better to feel pain than nothing at all.

Finally, I reached the cemetery. Now to find this so-called church.

I decided to just walk down the path in the center, which must wind the whole way through the cemetery. Some part of me knew the church must be in the oldest part, since the town was over 500 years old.

The path was narrow, surrounded on each side by deep green strands of grass, waving in the soft wind. I plucked my iPod out of my vintage messenger bag and popped my earphones in. I knew the perfect song for this moment.

_'Foxes by Youth'_

I let the music take me away as I walked, closing my eyes and opening them at intervals so I wouldn't fall and crack my head open or something equally gory. The path was longer than I expected, so I let my mind wander… _chasing time with a thousand dreams._

.

"Bonnie, could you stay a moment?" Mr. Hayes called, leaning over his desk and sorting papers. He looked up at me with a small smile and pushed his glasses up his nose. "I need to speak with you about your essay."

"Sure," I replied as the classroom emptied and the door swung shut.

Mr. Hayes walked around the desk, holding my paper up. "This is really great stuff, Bonnie. I love the way you used the snow as a way to describe her inner battle."

I blushed, tucking a lock of unruly red hair behind my ear. "Thanks, Mr. Hayes."

"Please, call me Benji," He smiled, laying one large hand on my shoulder, covered lightly in cotton.

I sucked in a breath, moving away slightly but not flinching. It's Mr. Hayes, Benji. He's my friend. He'll take care of me. I crossed my legs. "Okay… Benji."

He looked at my face a moment. "Bonnie, can I tell you a secret?"

I nodded and smiled, "You can tell me anything, Mr. Hayes. After the way you helped me with my parents… I think I owe you more than one favor."

He took another step towards me, placing his hand on my foot. "You're so mature, Bonnie. Wise beyond your years… Makes me wish we'd met any other place but here." His hand was burning, trying to pass as comforting. His eyes made me feel more adult, more corrupt… They made me feel like _more _than I was.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hayes, but I'm not sure I understand."

Benji lowered his head and smiled, showing full white teeth. "You know I'm not much older than you, right?"

I nodded. "Of course. You graduated from Penn State 3 years ago, which would make you …"

"I'm 8 years older than you, Bonnie." He moved closer, taking off his glasses and sticking them in his breast pocket. "Are you alright with that?"

A lump formed in my throat and I looked down, my heart beat fast. I felt suddenly numb. Benji lifted my chin with two fingers, and then he kissed me.

.

I took a deep breath, inhaling the smoke from the joint I had sparked, and held it. This was what I needed; something to take my mind away, or at least something to help me make sense of it.

Looking around the cemetery, I realized I had gone pretty far. The grave stones were older, the lawn more unkempt. My eyes landed on a dark figure, the backside of a man. He was only a few gravestones beside me. Wow, I really needed to pay more attention.

I pulled one earphone out and stepped towards him. I held the joint out to him. "Uhm, hey," I called. He turned towards me, taking my breath away with his black eyes. "Want some?"

His eyes dropped on the blazing joint. "I didn't peg you for a stoner."

I took a long drag and went to stand beside him. "I'm not, really. I only use it to help make myself … forget."

He nodded, then thoughtfully looked at the gravestone. _'Giuseppe Salvatore, 1810-1864'_

"Dead ancestor?" I asked, taking another drag.

"Sure. The name's Damon by the way."

"That's nice to know."

"You know, we're the only two people who come here regularly."

I crossed my arms, taking another drag. "How do you know I come here regularly?"

"What do you need to forget about?" He challenged my question, turning to face me. He reached up, looking as if he was going to touch my lips, then he took the joint smoothly from between my fingers and put it out.

I stared at the ash stain on Giuseppe's weathered stone, my bottom lip jutting out. Taking a deep breath, I met Damon's cold black eyes. Something about the way he regarded me, made me want to tell him everything. I exhaled, feeling a tug behind my eyes. "My English teacher died a couple days ago. We were close."

"I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "Don't be."

"Why not? You were close, were you not?"

The air suddenly grew colder and a cloud fell over the sun. My heart beat fast, the whole surface of my skin lighting up with fierce anger. He deserved to die, he took away my innocence, he used me. I spoke through clenched teeth, "What if I wanted him to die?"

Damon watched me intently, somehow sending butterflies to my stomach. "You scare me, Bonnie."

That took me back. I took a step away, my rage suddenly dying. "I-I'm sorry…"

He shook his head, a smirk ghosting his features. "No, not in that way, silly girl. You just… frighten me in all that you are, with what you can do. It's so much more than I'm used to."

I rolled my shoulders back, trying to regain composure. "I'm not sure what to think about that."

Damon tipped his head to the side, regarding me with sparkling black eyes. His face was suddenly serious. I grabbed my arm, digging my fingers into the flesh. What was it about him that sent my emotions spinning around? Everything he did caused an immediate reaction, he must know what he's doing. That gaze… it's making me squirm. How can I want him so bad?

"What did your English teacher do to you?" He asked, his voice soft.

What? Why was he asking that? I shook my head, my eyebrow furrowing. "Why do you want to know? You don't know anything about me, or him. Why are you even here?" I screamed. Surprisingly, my eyes stung with tears. My heart weighed a million pounds and I longed for that wondrous feeling of numb.

"I don't know," Damon's eyes were confused, suddenly growing cold. Then, in the next instant, he was gone.

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**A/N I went back to my roots and used the same writing style from my story, 'Love Me Dangerously'! If you've read it, you'll understand. :P **

**What did you guys think? Please review!**


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